


The Bride of Time

by EffervescentAngel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Donna gets her memories back, Donna has no tolerance for it, Donna/Rassilon, Every so often I want nice things, F/M, Humor, Rassilon is not nice, Romance, aternative ending, meta-crisis Donna, the end of time part 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5052670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffervescentAngel/pseuds/EffervescentAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, if revenge did move the stars instead of love, they would not shine." ~Margaret Atwood</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Rough(ish) Draft)

They had suffered a bitter blow- and at the hands of two of their own. Locked back inside the invisible but oh-so-keenly felt prison of time. There was no way out. No way out. Disgusted, he looked at his hands and arms. Trapped inside his body. No way out. No way out.

 

They would pay for this, all of them. The worm who had pushed them back into the Time Lock was already paying for his rebellion with his sanity. The other one had managed to escape. But he would find him again. He would bring him back to his place of birth to face justice.

 

So in the grim darkness of fallen Gallifrey, Rassilon, High President and Founder of the Time Lords, waited. And he watched. He reached out with his consciousness into the time vortex, stretching his mind to the very edges of time and space, searching, assessing, looking for the mind that had dared contrive a way to fling him back into the darkness. There was only one mind in the universe like it. He scanned the universe throughout the ages and dismissed each mind he found without a second glance. There was no spark of imagination, no dash of mad genius that was the signature of his quarry. And then, for no particular reason, he returned his scrutiny to earth at the time of his defeat. No, a little after. He could not explain it, but it was as if someone was calling out, searching just as he was. He focused more closely, examining carefully, letting nothing pass.

 

Ah! There it was. On the same planet he had left so comparatively recently, in the same country and region as well. Yes, yes! There it was. The same memories, the knowledge, the passion. Joy surged within Rassilon. He had found his prey at last. Worthy as his opponent was, he would never be prepared for what was to come next.

 

Weaving his mind tightly within the strands of the other's consciousness, he forged a link, one that would allow him to pull his catch back through time and across galaxies to his homeworld to pay for his treason. The technique was one of his own design and had never before been attempted. He smiled. Closing his eyes, he gripped the mind tighter with his own and pulled, gently at first, then with greater force. He felt the body begin to follow the mind through the link. He felt himself relax. Soon. He would know revenge soon.

 

Then suddenly, something went wrong. He could feel the connection shift and change its course, like a river reversing its flow. Then he found himself being pulled from his chair. He fought, tried to break the connection, but it was too late. The link was of his own making and it was strong. He was sucked out of Gallifrey, away from the Time War.

 

The journey was very brief, but he decided to take his vengeance in whatever form it chose. If the Doctor was choosing to be destroyed on the very world he had fought so fiercely to protect, then so be it.

 

Very shortly, he found himself on a floor again, crouched down. He straightened, smiling, prepared to smite his enemy upon first sight.

 

But as it happened, the sight that greeted him was not the Doctor, who thwarted him at every turn yet detested violence. Instead, there stood before him a tall red-haired woman in an ornate white gown. One hand gripped a bouquet of flowers with white knuckled fingers, gray-green eyes flashed with incandescent rage. Too late, he noticed that the other hand was balled into a fist. A fist that was flying towards his face with alarming velocity.

He found himself back down on the ground, cupping a jaw that might very well be broken, while the woman stood over him and said in a voice that echoed through the stone room, “Oi! What HELL do you think you're doing then?!”

 


	2. Author's Note

Hello Dear Readers!!

If you are reading this, I have not forgotten you, or this work. I am working as we speak to update this and my other incomplete works. Thank you so much for your patience and loyalty.

 

~EA

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be updated probably after I upload the next chapters of my LotR fics. I have been thinking about a Donna Noble fanfiction for a while because I feel that she got HORRIBLY shortchanged, so this is my way of trying to remedy that a little bit. Thank you so much to all of you who have been so supportive in commenting/voting/reading my works, despite the i.nc.r.e.d.i.b.l.y s.l.o.w updates. I try to bring my best writing skills to the table for these fanfictions because they are truly a labor of love. But waiting, whether it's for a book, chapter in a fanfiction or a new season of Sherlock, is quite taxing. So to all of you who have stuck with me during my hiatus, I would just like to say that I--
> 
> Does it really need saying? ;)


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